


I don't want to set the world on fire

by yasminkhxns



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 1940s era, All Is Not As It Seems, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, probably at some point, we got it all in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22725790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yasminkhxns/pseuds/yasminkhxns
Summary: Yasmin heard it before she saw it. The soft melodic voice of a woman singing. The tone was gentle, almost angelic, and she swore blind there was a strong northern accent hidden underneath.
Relationships: The Doctor/Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 149
Kudos: 160





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> heyyyy everyone so I came up with this idea ages and only just got around to writing it properly. I know I also have Daemonium on the go but I just decided to be chaotic and start uploading this anyway
> 
> anyway i hope you all enjoy this and enjoy thirteen and yaz in a 1940s setting. also i ain't no history student so i'm just wildin with any 40s stuff lol
> 
> also check me out formatting this fic differently!! don't ask me why i just felt like it SFGJKGFJKG

_“I don't want to set the world on fire_

_I just want to start a flame in your heart,_

_In my heart I have but one desire_

_And that one is you, no other will do,”_

Yasmin heard it before she saw it. The soft melodic voice of a woman singing. The tone was gentle, almost angelic, and she swore blind there was a strong northern accent hidden underneath.

As Yasmin and her husband turned the corner into the bar, her eyes landed on the woman. She was rather peculiar, dressed to the nines in a full tuxedo, tailcoat falling behind her, blonde hair swaying around her face as she sang. She owned the stage with a confidence not typically seen in a woman. She was — unusual to say the least, but not in a bad way, Yasmin soon decided when a quaint smile pulled at her lips. As they shuffled between tables to find a seat, edging closer to the stage, closer to the strange woman, Yasmin found she couldn’t peel her eyes away, taking in every feature her slight distance allowed her to see.

Bright hazel-green eyes that shone in the stage light, pale skin that was a complete contrast to Yasmin’s own, though she supposed the intensity of the spotlight didn’t help. Her blonde hair, when closer, almost seemed golden like a halo, framing her strong jaw perfectly. Just watching the woman perform left Yasmin’s heart racing in her chest for some reason, filling it with a warmth she’d not felt before and–

“Yasmin?” she was brought out of her daze by her husband, and when she turned to face him, he was frowning.

“Yes? Sorry.”

“That’s the third time I called you. Come on, sit down.” Yasmin herself only now realised she was still standing, apologising again as she took a seat, eyes following her husband as he weaved his way to the bar. Though she soon found her gaze unconsciously falling back to the woman that graced the stage.

_“I don't want to set the world on fire_

_I just want to start a flame in your heart,_

_I don't want to set the world on fire, honey_

_I love you too much,”_

As the woman sang she lifted the microphone, stand and all, while she moved gracefully around the stage, eyes locking with patron after patron until they finally fell on Yasmin. She watched as the woman’s eyes widened briefly, her singing faltering for a less than a moment before she plastered a smile back on her face and her eyes drifted away to the next person. Yasmin found it a little odd, when their eyes locked and the woman stifled, but she was also confused by the warmth that burst in her chest at the split second of eye contact. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, not even with her husband, not even on their wedding day. Yet, no matter what she felt, Yasmin couldn’t peel her eyes away, not even when a small glass of ginger ale was placed in front of her. It was only when a hand was placed on her shoulder that her gaze fell away as she looked up to her husband, a small smile on his face as he squeezed her shoulder gently.

“Here you are, darling.” he said as he moved to sit down next to her. 

“Thank you, Oliver.” Yasmin smiled back, though her eyes were already far too tempted to wander back to the stage. 

Yasmin and Oliver chatted lightly for a while, taking breaks from conversation to enjoy the woman’s performance, the talking only increasing when their friends arrived. Yet, while everyone chatted rivetingly around her, Yasmin’s concentration struggled all evening as she felt an unexplainable pull toward the woman on stage.

It was about an hour later when the woman hit the final note of her final song for the night, taking a bow as the bar applauded her, Yasmin included. Her smile positively beamed as she thanked the crowd, though just before she left the stage her gaze caught Yasmin’s again, and for a moment her smile softened. The next moment she was gone, whisked away backstage so they could prepare for the next performer. 

“Well, what did you think of her then?” One of their friends, Peter, asked as he nodded toward the stage. “That woman.”

“I thought she had a wonderful voice, didn’t you, Yasmin?” Catherine remarked.

Yasmin’s eyes drifted back to the group at the sound of her name, luckily she hadn’t completely tuned out of the conversation, “Erm, yes. It was wonderful.” 

“I thought she was a bit queer.” Oliver butted in as his gaze briefly met Yasmin’s before moving on, “What kind of woman wears a suit? It’s unnatural.” There was an edge to his tone that left the group in a momentary silence before there was a sudden subject change and the tension was forgotten. 

They conversed well into the evening, the bar packed, a man now singing on stage and the air thick with smoke, Oliver contributing to musky clouds with cigar of his own as he tapped ash into a tray. His arm was hanging loosely around the back of Yasmin’s chair as he pulled the last drag from his cigar before stubbing it out and blowing smoke upwards. 

“Shall we head home, Yasmin?” he said then, interrupting mid conversation, an awkward silence hovering over the table. Yasmin looked around their friends, all eyes on her. Her gaze finally fell back to Oliver who looked at her expectantly.

“I um… I actually think I’m going to stay a bit longer.” 

Oliver frowned, freezing for a moment before shaking his head with a huff. “Well, suit yourself my dear but I’m exhausted. Don’t wake me when you come in.” 

He stood then, slipping his coat and hat on as he wished everyone but his own wife a bid goodnight. 

Silence lingered around the table until Yasmin finally broke it with a clearing of her throat. “I’m just going to powder my nose.” she said, excusing herself from the table and the strange tension that now remained after Oliver’s curt departure.

Yasmin walked through an archway and down a corridor towards the bathrooms, her mind wandering as she observed the framed posters on the wall. It turned out she was enthralled in the images, that she almost bumped into someone.

“Woah! Careful.” A gentle voice worried, and when Yasmin turned her head, she came face-to-face with the same blonde locks and emerald eyes that had entranced her earlier in the evening.

“Oh! I’m so sorry madam I–”

“No need to worry!” the woman responded lightly with a wink. “Going somewhere?” 

“I was just looking for the ladies.”

“Ah, well you’re going the wrong way for that. They’re at the other end of the hall.” the woman pointed over Yasmin’s shoulder with a polite smile.

“Oh, right, ok.” There was an awkward pause where neither woman moved, until the blonde decided to break it.

“Are you–” she gestured down the hall.

“I mean,” Yasmin started. “I was only really going to get away from my friends. I only think they pretend to like me because of my husband.” 

The woman flinched a touch at the final word, and though intrigued, Yasmin chose to ignore the peculiar response for now.

“Ah, yes. Husband. Of course. Well, do you want to come back to my dressing room for a bit? Perhaps I’ll make better company?” the woman suggested with a kind smile that Yasmin couldn’t resist, a strange warmth bubbling in her chest.

“If you don’t mind?”

“‘Course not! Come on!” the woman grinned with an offer of her hand, the gesture almost scandalous between two women, though Yasmin accepted anyway, shocked at how well their palms moulded together.

“Sorry madam,” Yaz spoke as they started walking, “I never asked your name. How rude of me.” Yasmin chastised herself.

“Nonsense! I never asked yours either.”

“Yasmin. Yasmin Brundle.”

“Joh- Jane Smith.” the name seemed foreign on Jane’s lips, another strange thing to note about the mysterious woman. Though Yasmin already felt so entranced by her she couldn’t bring herself to consider it further. 

Once they made it to Jane’s dressing room, she instantly offered Yasmin a seat that she took gratefully, the blonde perching on the table next to her. 

After a brief silence, Yasmin spoke, “Can I just say, Jane, your voice is beautiful. You completely took my breath away.” 

Jane’s head ducked slightly as her cheeks flushed from the compliment before she caught Yasmin’s eyes again. “Thank you, Yaz.” 

Yasmin frowned. “Yasmin.”

“Yes of course, sorry.” Jane shook her head, as her hands came up to loosen her bow tie and undo her top button. Yasmin felt herself flush, confused by the feeling as she continued the conversation.

“How long have you been singing here? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.” 

Jane’s face scrunched in what Yasmin found to be an amusing expression. “Oh, you know — quite a while.” 

The answer was vague, only adding to Yasmin’s intrigue as she tried to decipher the woman before her. 

“How long have you been coming here, Yasmin?” 

Yasmin frowned then as she tried to think back, struggling to recall the first time she had come to the bar. She just — remembered coming here. “For as long as I can remember.” she answered with slight hesitation before shaking her head slightly. There was a lull before Yasmin spoke up again, “What did you do before you sang here?” she asked, deflecting the questions from herself and her worrisome lack of memory. 

“Travelled.” Jane answered wistfully, eyes lingering on Yasmin for a moment, something hidden behind wise eyes, but before Yasmin had the chance to figure out what, their gaze had broken. 

“I’ve always wanted to travel.” Yasmin thought aloud, though deep down the sentence felt strange on her tongue.

“Travelling is brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.” Jane’s eyes found Yasmin’s once more as she smiled — _sadly?_ “I bet you’d love it.”

“I bet I would.” Yasmin smiled back, trying not to think too deeply about the odd mix of emotions Jane was displaying. “What’s the best thing you’ve seen? The world is so vast, I imagine you’ve seen some incredible things?” 

Jane grinned, “And how do you imagine that Miss Kh- Mrs Brundle.” 

Yasmin’s brow pinched for a moment before disregarding the mistake. “I can just tell. You have that — I don’t know, that feeling. You give me the feeling you’ve seen a lot. It’s like I can see it in your eyes, Jane.” 

Jane’s chuckle was breezy, “Well, Yasmin, you’re not wrong there.” 

Their gazes locked for a moment, both their smiles gentle and a little open. “So… what have you seen?” Yasmin asked softly.

Jane’s response was to move from her purchase on the table and grab the spare chair in the room, dragging it over to sit opposite Yasmin. “Yasmin Brundle, let me tell you all about a place called Pompeii…” 

Jane spoke of a city lost to molten heat, of people frozen in time. She spoke about the wonders of the Greek Islands, recounting stories of old, of Gods and Goddesses and Deities, of a poet named Sappho and her lost scriptures. She spoke of America. Of New York and its bustling streets. She spoke of so many places, each story just as enrapturing as the last. Yasmin noticed how Jane lit up as she spoke about her worldly travels, the golden flecks of her eyes sparkling in the dim light of the dressing room. Yasmin was so absorbed she almost felt as if she had been on the travels _with_ Jane. But that would be impossible. So before she could begin her next story, Yasmin regretfully interrupted. 

“What made you stop?” 

“Hmm?”

“What made you stop travelling?” Yasmin asked, intrigued, “I can see how much you loved it. I can’t understand what would make you stop.” 

Jane’s face fell then, worry and sadness pooling deep in her eyes, her change in demeanour too quick to be able to hide. Jane sighed heavily before she spoke again, “A friend.”

Yasmin quirked a brow, head tilting slightly. “A friend?”

Jane nodded. “She got into some trouble. I had to help her.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?” Yasmin pushed a little, hoping to slot another piece into the puzzle that was Jane Smith.

“There were — people, after her. So I had to help her hide.”

“Gosh,” Yasmin’s hand reached out almost on instinct to rest over Jane’s knee, “Is she ok?”

Jane held her gaze for a moment before it dropped to lock onto the hand on her knee. Yasmin faltered for a moment, about to pull her hand away until Jane sensed her hesitation and placed her hand over Yasmin’s own. It was warm, and comforting, and that bubbling feeling in Yasmin’s chest returned at the contact. Jane only spoke when she lifted her gaze to find Yasmin’s again, a small smile on her lips. 

“Yes. She’s fine.” 

Yasmin let out a sigh of relief she didn’t realise she was holding. “I’m glad.” 

After a moment, Jane opened her mouth to speak again when she was interrupted by a knock at the dressing room door. She frowned before calling out, “Come in!” 

The door opened, revealing a man stood in the hallway, hand still resting over the door knob as he leaned into the room, “Jane it’s– oh, sorry, ladies it’s closing time. You better head home.” 

Jane gave him a curt nod before he walked away, leaving the door ajar. Yasmin looked to the clock on the wall with a gasp. “It’s almost eleven!” she jumped out of her seat, panic written over her features as Jane followed her up. “Oliver, he’ll be so cross.” Yasmin went to dart out of the room when her arm was caught by Jane’s. 

“Yasmin, wait!” Yasmin paused in Jane’s surprisingly strong hold, turning to face the blonde. “It’s ok. I’m sure he’ll be fine. Give me two minutes, let me walk you home. I wouldn’t want you on your own at this time of night.” 

Yasmin’s gaze flicked between the door and Jane, mind running through her options before relaxing slightly with a nod. “Ok.” 

It was _exactly_ two minutes later that Jane was locking the door to her dressing room and leading them out of the bar with a final bid of goodnight to the manager. 

The wind was bitter when they stepped outside, the thin fabric of Yasmin’s dress not doing much to abate the cold as they began to walk. It didn’t take long for Jane to notice, shrugging off her jacket and placing it over Yasmin’s shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. After the initial shock at such a kind gesture, Yasmin gave Jane a quiet thank you, pulling the jacket tighter over her shoulders, before suddenly realising;

“Jane, aren’t you cold?” 

“Me? Nah. I’ll be fine. I don’t feel the cold.”

“Are you sure?” Yasmin asked worriedly.

“I promise.” Jane replied, a kind smile on her lips as she paused at the edge of the pavement before they crossed the road, offering her arm to Yasmin who accepted the offer instantly. “Now I can knick your body warmth.” 

Yasmin chuckled, head instinctively moving to lean against Jane’s shoulder until she realised last minute it wasn’t her husband she was with.

They chatted quietly all the way back to Yasmin’s home. She’d never felt so engaged in conversation as she did with Jane, the woman always listening to her so intently in a way Oliver never did. They slowed to a stop outside a small terrace house, and Yasmin mournfully unwound her arm from Jane’s. 

“This is me.” she said, nodding toward her home.

“This is you.” Jane parroted. 

“Thank you, for a lovely evening. I can’t remember the last time I had such fun.”

Jane’s head dipped as she scuffed her heel on the pavement bashfully before looking up again, “It’s my pleasure, Yasmin.”

“Will you get home ok?” Yasmin asked, concerned for the woman who now had to walk on her own.

“I’ll be fine.” Jane smiled.

“Are you sure?” Yasmin frowned in concern.

“I’m sure.” 

They paused for a moment, lost in each other's eyes before Yasmin let out an awkward laugh with a small shake of her head. “Ok, goodnight, Jane.” 

“Goodnight Yasmin.” Jane replied with a nod, spinning on the ball of her foot to begin walking back down the road, but just as Yasmin stepped up to her door, she remembered something. 

“Jane!” she called out, taking a few quick steps down the street to catch up with –– her new friend?

Jane turned at the sound of her name to find Yasmin walking towards her, arm outstretched, jacket in hand. “Your jacket.” Yasmin said, placing it carefully into Jane’s arms. 

“Oh! Yes! Thank you, Yasmin.” 

“Thank _you_ for letting me borrow it.” 

“Well, goodnight, again.” Jane said as she pulled the jacket over her shoulders and shoved her hands in its pockets. 

“Goodnight.” Yasmin nodded in reply before turning and walking away, unaware of the emerald eyes that lingered on her until she stepped through her front door. 

Yasmin was quiet as she moved through the house, Oliver’s words on repeat in her mind as she readied herself bed. Ten minutes later, Yasmin was lifting the covers of their bed, sliding under the sheets into the warmth the body next to her radiated. 

She closed her eyes, her mind wired, thoughts reeling with nothing but Jane smith until an arm wrapped around her waist and a warm body pressed against her own.

It only took a moment for Oliver to murmur into dark curls, “You’re back late.”

“I know,” Yasmin whispered into the cool room, “I’m sorry. I lost track of time.”

Oliver took in a deep breath, his exhale tickling the back of Yasmin’s neck in a way that had her skin prickling. “Why do you smell like someone else?” he asked calmly, though Yasmin could sense that he was anything but calm. She panicked, even though she had no reason to. She was only with Jane, another woman, surely–

“Yasmin.” he spoke again, “Why do you smell like someone else?”

He sat up, and Yasmin did too, nerves tingling in her chest and drying out her throat. 

“It must be because Jane lent me her coat when she walked me home.” she answered truthfully.

“Who the hell is _Jane?”_ Oliver grunted, brow pinched.

“The singer. The woman. The one wearing–”

“The suit?” Oliver interrupted before scoffing, “I don’t want you hanging around with people like that Yasmin. They’re–” his face contorted into one of disgust, “–wrong. Do you understand?”

Yasmin nodded hastily. 

“Good.” Oliver finished with a smirk before leaning in to leave a lingering kiss on her lips. “I’m just looking out for you, you know?”

“I know.” 

“Now come on, lie down.” 

Yasmin and Oliver fell back into the mattress, his arms wrapped tightly around her, though now it felt more claustrophobic. Oliver slipped back into slumber in barely any time at all, Yasmin however, lay awake with her thoughts until sleep eventually caught her. 

That night, her dreams were full of Jane Smith — and a magical blue box. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i told you all i'd be carrying on with this so here we are, chapter 2!
> 
> tw: arsehole husband

There was a palpable tension between Yasmin and Oliver the next morning. It followed them around, thick and heavy, though Yasmin struggled to concentrate on it, her head still far too confused by her previous nights dreams. 

Her and Jane looked completely different in her dreams, in such unusual clothes. Yasmin was wearing _trousers_ — and if that didn’t feel peculiar enough, the box they stepped into was a whole other story. It was so obviously some sort of dream world her mind had come up with, no box like the one in her dreams could be bigger on the inside, _let alone_ fly through the stars. 

The slam of a cup and saucer on the hard wood of their kitchen table was what brought Yaz out of her reverie, tea sloshing over its edges, marking white china a dirty brown as it collected on the saucer. Yasmin looked up but Oliver was already facing away, newspaper open on the kitchen counter as he stood with his back to her nursing a cup of coffee. 

Yasmin lifted the tea to her lips with a gentle blow to cool the liquid, “Thank you.” she mumbled against the rim of the cup. 

“We’re going into town today.” Oliver finally spoke up, catching Yasmin’s eyes briefly when he glanced over his shoulder.

“Oh,” Yasmin breathed, “Ok.” 

“Is that a problem?” he asked sharply as he turned around and Yasmin shook her head in response. 

“No, not at all. It’s just — after last night I wasn’t sure you’d want to–” Yasmin trailed off, gaze dropping to the dregs of her tea as anxiety pooled in her gut.

“Want to what?” Oliver asked, walking over to the table and leaning against it as he placed his empty mug down. 

“Want to do anything with me.” Yasmin admitted, downtrodden. “I thought you were cross with me.” 

Oliver shifted to perch in the seat next to Yasmin then, his frown turning to something more kind that quelled Yasmin’s worry. “I’m not cross with you, darling. I was just concerned about the people you are choosing to spend your time with. People like that woman.”

“Jane.” Yasmin corrected, and Oliver’s smile shrunk when a slight frown returned. 

“Sure, but remember I don’t want you seeing her again, Yasmin.”

Yasmin nodded in reply. “I know.”

Oliver’s smile returned. “Good.” he leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on Yasmin’s lips before standing. “Now, finish getting ready, dear. We’ll leave around twelve-ish.”

When Yasmin checked her watch, it was half past eleven. 

* * *

The tension had almost completely dissipated by the time their trip into town was coming to an end. It had been an enjoyable afternoon, the sun was shining brightly, barely any clouds in the sky and the lunch they had shared was divine. 

It was only when the couple were heading back to their car that an issue arose. Around the corner came a blonde mop and hazel-green eyes that shone so brightly in the sun Yasmin almost lost her footing. The sight of Jane Smith had certainly improved her day, but the increased tightness of the grip on her hand quickly reminded her it had likely ruined her husband’s. 

Jane spotted them almost instantly, the eccentric woman practically ignoring Oliver as she bounded up to Yasmin, her suit blazer trailing behind her in the slight breeze. 

_Another suit?_ Yasmin reeled, though the outfit flattered Jane wonderfully, the sight was always a surprise. She certainly stood out in a crowd. 

“Yasmin! Hello!” Jane called out, a grin plastered on her face.

“Hello, Jane.” Yasmin replied bashfully, almost forgetting she was _holding hands_ with her _husband._ She looked up to see Oliver glaring down at Jane, his grip still far too tight on her hand. “Um, Jane, this is Oliver. My husband.”

“Hello Oliver.” Jane smiled, though it wasn’t as friendly as the ones she gave Yasmin. “Nice to meet you. I’m the– Jane Smith.” she held out hand in greeting, waiting for Oliver to take it. Yasmin let out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding when he did. 

“Oliver Brundle.” he replied curtly as he shook her hand. When Oliver pulled away, he wiped his hand against his trouser leg before pocketing it and Yasmin couldn’t stop her eye roll. “Strong grip for a woman.” he patronised.

“Can’t let you men get too comfortable now, can we?” Jane remarked with smirk on her lips as she shoved her hands in her pockets. 

Oliver huffed in disapproval at Jane’s cheek, though Yasmin couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at her lips. When Oliver next spoke however, Yasmin’s smile dropped immediately. “Sometimes I think you women need to remember where you stand.” 

Yasmin went to speak up, but Jane beat her to it. “And where’s that, exactly?” she challenged, hands leaving her pockets to join behind her back as she leaned forward, almost eager to hear his response. 

“Lower than a man.”

Yasmin scoffed at that, peeling her hand away from Oliver’s as her own expression morphed into one of disgust. “Oliv–”

“Don’t agree with that.” Jane responded, shaking her head with a grimace. “Should be equal. Don’t you agree Yas–”

“No. She doesn’t. And Neither do I.”

“Actually,” Yasmin moved to stand between Jane and Oliver, “I do. How dare you belittle me, belittle _us_ like that?” 

“Yasmin–” 

“No. You’ve ruined what had been a wonderful day with comments like that.”

“But–”

Yasmin turned her back on Oliver, shooting Jane a kind smile, “Come on Jane, let’s go for a drink.” 

Jane grinned back at her, “It’ll be my pleasure.” 

“Yasmin!” Oliver called after his wife, “Yasmin I told you not hang around with her, with people like her!” 

“Just ignore him.” Yasmin murmured to Jane as they continued to walk away. 

“That won’t be hard.” Jane quipped and Yasmin laughed aloud, her chest warming again at the sound of Jane’s own laugh and its accompanying smile. 

* * *

The two women found themselves back at the bar from the night before, if anything for Jane’s discount there as a singer. Yasmin had her usual ginger ale, Jane opting for a daiquiri. The bar was fairly busy with plenty of tables available, yet the women chose to stay seated on the bar stools, background music being played by a band on stage. 

After a moment, Yasmin covered her mouth as she laughed, shaking her head. 

“What?” Jane asked as she took a sip of her cocktail.

“I can’t believe I just did that.”

“Did what?”

“Spoke to my husband like that. I’ve never been brave enough before, I think you rubbed off on me.” Yasmin smiled gratefully, and Jane returned it. 

“I’m glad to hear that. He’s rude. I don’t like him.” Jane said, taking another sip.

Yasmin was shocked by Jane’s bluntness and she did a terrible job of hiding it, though all she could do was laugh. “Oh, he’s not that bad — usually. He’s just a bit protective is all.” 

“That was a bit more than being protective. That was being an arse.”

“Jane!” Yasmin whispered sharply with a giggle when people looked their way at Jane’s brazen words.

“What?! It’s true.” she replied with a shrug. 

Yasmin felt herself more and more intrigued by the woman with every second she spent with her. Taking a sip of her drink, her hands moved to rest in her lap before she spoke again. “I’ve never met anyone like you.” 

Jane’s smile faltered for a second, almost too quick to notice, but Yasmin was eagle eyed. “Ah, I’m sure you have.”

“I would certainly remember someone like you, Jane Smith.” Yasmin smirked, and Jane’s smile faltered again, a deep, unbidden sadness pooling in her eyes. Yasmin decided this time, she would question it. “Why do you–”

“What did your husband mean?” Jane interrupted, swiftly changing the subject in such a way that it caught Yasmin completely off guard. 

“Huh?”

“What did he mean — when he said _‘people like me?’_ ” Jane looked puzzled, and Yasmin felt irritation at her husband flare up in her chest. 

“Oh — he meant, um, he meant–” Jane’s eyes were wide and innocent and absolutely gorgeous, driving Yasmin to near distraction until she pulled herself together and leaned in close to Jane, “–queer.” she whispered under her breath. 

“Oh.” Jane said flatly, brow creasing, though it was only for a moment, her expression quickly morphing into a smirk. “It’s the suit isn’t it?”

Yasmin burst out laughing at that, drawing the attention of nearby patrons. She turned to them with quiet apologies until Jane turned to them, “She’s not sorry, I’m just hilarious.” she grinned and Yasmin gasped, unable to conceal another laugh.

“Stop it.” Yasmin chided playfully with a light tap to Jane’s arm who just chuckled in return as she sipped at her drink. 

“What do you think of it?” Jane asked then, bringing Yasmin’s laughter to a stop.

She raised a perfect brow, “What do I think of what?” 

It was Jane’s turn to lean right in this time, lips by Yasmin’s ear, hot breath ghosting over sensitive skin as she whispered, “Queerness.”

Heat rose in Yasmin’s cheeks at the question, heartbeat rising in her chest, butterflies dancing around in her stomach. “I, I um–” she laughed awkwardly, words stammering at the quirk of Jane’s lips, “I think,” she swallowed, “I think there is nothing wrong with it. I think it’s perfectly natural. Anyone who is repulsed by such a thing is to be quite frank,” Yasmin looked around for a brief moment, “An arse.” she finished with a sure nod, relishing in the responding grin she received from Jane.

“Yasmin Kh– Brundle, you are absolutely brilliant.” 

Yasmin flushed at that, ducking her head bashfully, “Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not.” Jane responded sincerely. 

Jane made Yasmin feel special in a way Oliver never had, her cheeks burning, heart pounding and her mind reeling in the best way. 

The two women sat and spoke for so long that it was dark out by the time they finally departed, Yasmin this time insisting on denying the offer being walked home. “I really don’t think that is going to help the situation. Thank you though, Jane.”

It had taken some effort, both women just as strong willed and as stubborn as the other, but Jane finally conceded with the promise she would see Yasmin soon regardless of her “rubbish husband.” 

Jane didn’t leave without sending a final wave of shock through Yasmin however, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek as she left with a breezy farewell, leaving Yasmin utterly stunned.

* * *

Yasmin carefully slipped through the front door of her home, the only light in the house shining dimly through a crack in the living room door. No longer with Jane, Yasmin felt her confidence dwindle slightly, nerves weighing uncomfortably in her chest as she took a breath and stepped through the door. 

Oliver was sat reading, smoke drifting upwards from where he blew it out his mouth, cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. 

“Oli–”

Oliver slammed his book shut harshly and Yasmin jumped, the book then dropping with a loud thump on the small table next to the sofa. “What did I tell you yesterday, Yasmin?” Oliver asked snidely, his glare boring into Yasmin’s features as he stubbed his cigarette out.

Yasmin cleared her throat, keeping her voice strong, “Not to ‘hang around’ with Jane.” 

“And what did you do?”

“I— I spent the afternoon with Jane.”

“You spent the afternoon with Jane.” Oliver repeated. “When I told you _not_ to.”

“You act like you control me, Oliver.” Yasmin remarked, folding her arms. 

Oliver stood abruptly, but Yasmin held her ground. “You’re my wife. Don’t I?” 

Yasmin scoffed. “No. you _don’t._ ”

Oliver rolled his eyes at the reply. “You know you were a lot more complacent before you met her. I don’t like what she’s doing to you. The ideas she’s putting in your head. She’s– she’s corrupting you!” 

“Corrupting me? Don’t be so absurd, Oliver.” 

“She is! I can see it! It’s only been two days and I can already see how you’ve changed.” Oliver shook his head, lighting up another cigarette before flinging his coat over his shoulders. 

“Where are you going?!” Yasmin questioned, stepping in his way as he tried to leave.

“Out.”

“Where?”

He shoved Yasmin’s shoulder and she fell against the wall with a huff. “I need a drink!” he called over his shoulder on his way out of the house. Yasmin pushed away from the wall, hand rubbing her shoulder as she shook her head in confusion. 

  
“ _Corrupting me?_ ” Yasmin murmured to herself, “How ridiculous.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took so long for a new update!!
> 
> i'm winging this fic chapter by chapter so there is no upload schedule for this fic fkljdgsljkdgsljkgsklj

It had been a few days since Oliver had stormed out in need of a drink. He’d come back that night with the stench of alcohol and smoke clinging to clothes, waking Yasmin as he’d collapsed into bed beside her, uncaring of her complaints. 

It had also been a few days since she’d seen Jane, no thanks to Oliver making it difficult. There had been days when he’d made it so she couldn’t leave the house, and when they had gone out, they’d avoided the area of the bar Jane worked at entirely. 

It was a Saturday evening when Yasmin decided she’d had enough. Oliver was out down the pub with his friends, and she was under strict instructions  _ “not to leave the house.”  _

Grabbing her coat off the hook, Yasmin disregarded her husband, leaving the house with a spike of adrenaline as she made her way to the bar where Jane worked with a spring in her step. She was excited to see her new found friend again. Not seeing her had made the last few days feel like an eternity. 

Yasmin felt as though she should be worried for the strength of her emotions towards Jane, yet as she took her first step into the bar and heard the distinguished notes of Jane’s voice, all the worries fell to the back of her mind.

As she turned the corner, Yasmin’s heart was beating out of her chest, and she thought it might burst at the sight of her friend on stage, striding around like she owned it. 

_ “Baby I’m yours, _

_ And I’ll be yours until the stars fall from the sky, _

_ Yours until the rivers all run dry, _

_ In other words, till I die.” _

The gentle tones of Jane’s voice had Yasmin lips pulling into an unconscious smile, her grin beaming, so brightly it seemed, that it took Jane mere seconds to spot her in the busy bar.

Their eyes locked, the distance between them feeling _minuscule_ in comparison to its reality. Yasmin watched as Jane’s smile grew wide and bright as she sang, her gaze soft but profound, their eyes never leaving each other’s as she continued to sing.

Somehow, Yasmin felt as though the lyrics were being directed at her. 

_ “Baby, I'm yours, _

_ And I'll be yours, until the sun no longer shines, _

_ Yours, until the poets run out of rhyme, _

_ In other words, until the end of time.” _

Yasmin’s breath escaped her as she listened on, glued to spot, just like her eyes were glued to Jane’s. The woman on stage may have been performing to a bar full of people but to Yasmin, it felt like they were the only two in the room. 

By the time Jane had finished, Yasmin had found she’d travelled halfway across the room, the stage a short distance away as patrons applauded around her. 

“Thank you!” Jane bowed as the bar erupted in a second round of applause. “Thank you, you’ve been wonderful all evening. If anything, you deserve another drink! Goodnight!”

Jane left the stage with a final cheer from the audience, jogging down the front steps rather than dipping behind the curtains as she gestured Yasmin over to her. Weaving her way through the tables, Yasmin took Jane’s outstretched hand once she reached her, the warmth of her palm sending butterflies fluttering around her stomach. Jane led them down the same hall where they’d first met and toward her dressing room, the quiet reassuring rather than anxiety inducing. Around Jane, Yasmin felt safe _—_ though why that was, was another question entirely.

Once the door shut behind them, Jane drew Yasmin into a hug that caught her off guard. She froze for a moment before reciprocating, arms dipping under Jane’s blazer as her hands spread across her back, muscles shifting under the thin fabric of Jane’s white shirt.

“Yasmin Brundle,” Jane pulled back just enough so her face was in view, “What a wonderful surprise!” she grinned, and Yasmin returned the contagious expression. “How’ve you been?”

Yasmin regretfully let her hands slip from Jane’s back to take the seat offered to her, the other woman sitting down opposite, her gaze intense. “Honestly? I’ve actually been pretty miserable.” Yasmin spoke truthfully.

“Oh?” Jane frowned, a hand reaching out to rest atop Yasmin’s knee, the contact setting her senses alight. “How come?”

“I’ve barely left the house the past couple of days. Oliver’s been keeping home.” Yasmin smirked, “He  _ really _ doesn’t like you. Thinks you’re ‘ _ corrupting me.’ _ ” 

“ _ Wow. _ ” Jane laughed, “Does he think I’m some kind of witch? Then again, I have been accused of that once before.” Her face scrunched in displeasure, reflecting on a clearly unpleasant memory as Yasmin hid a chuckle behind her hand. 

“Someone thought you were a witch?” she asked intrigued, and something akin to sadness flashed behind Jane’s eyes that was too quick to catch.

“Yeah, it was a while ago now.”

“What happened?” Yasmin questioned further, her curiosity peaking.

Jane sat quietly for a moment, before a grin split her face and her hand pulled away from Yasmin’s knee, “Well…” 

It was unsurprising that the two women lost track of time again, one story leading into another as Yasmin stayed enraptured by wonders Jane had seen. It made her feel a little sad, that Jane had seen so much and she’d seen so little yet, she couldn’t focus on it for long, Jane capturing her attention time and time again. 

It took Jane checking her pocket watch for the blonde to jump up in surprise. “God, we’ve sat here for hours, it’s just gone half past ten. Do you need to get back home, will  _ he  _ be upset?” 

Yasmin picked up on the way Jane refused to speak Oliver’s name, distaste rolling off the pronoun. It made her feel warm _—_ wanted. “If he’s back home and I’m not, I imagine so, yes.” Yasmin grimaced and Jane’s face fell.

“Yasmin I’m so sorry. I got so caught up chatting I’ve probably got you into trouble. Stupid brain _—_ stupid mouth, it doesn’t stop unless you tell me to shut up. I mean really I should just tell myself to shut up otherwise–”

“Jane!” Yasmin interrupted, laughing at Jane’s ramblings, “It’s fine. I’ll be ok.”

“Let me walk you home.” Jane insisted, reaching out for Yasmin’s fingers, the tips of her own brushing down their inside before gently tangling them together. The gentle touch sent goosebumps rising over Yasmin’s skin. “Please. Just so I at least know you get back safe.”

All Yasmin could do was nod, still overtaken by Jane’s fingers just about linked with her own, disappointment overwhelming her when they relinquished their touch to move and open the door to the dressing room, though the hand resting against her lower back was more than welcome as Jane guided them down the hall. 

As they walked through the now quieter bar, the busy evening drawing to a close, Yasmin froze at the sound of her name being called. 

When she turned, it was to the sight of one of her and Oliver’s friends, Peter, who she’d been sat with the evening she met Jane. He called out again as he walked towards her. “Yasmin! I thought it was you!” He looked around in confusion for a moment. “No Oliver?”

Yasmin cleared her throat, briefly looking to Jane who stood awkwardly, the hand that was previously resting on her back now shoved deep in a trouser pocket. “Oh, no. He’s at the pub.” she finished, choosing not to elaborate further. 

Peter’s eyes flicked between the two women, holding on Jane as his brow furrowed. “Aren’t you the singer? You were on earlier right?”

Jane’s eye widened a touch, flitting between Yasmin and Peter before she spoke, “Erm, yeah. Yeah I am. Sang earlier.” It was brief and awkward and Yasmin couldn’t help but smile at Jane’s fumble.

“Ah. Thought you were. Lovely voice may I say. Although, I don’t think I’ve ever heard a song quite like that before. Who’s the original artist?”

Panic glistened in Jane’s eyes at the question, “Oh… you probably won’t know them,” Jane waved her hand, trying to act blasé and failing miserably, “They’re quite new, small little group, quite, um, obscure.” Jane paused, the silence lingering awkwardly as Peter’s brows raised in anticipation. Jane sighed quietly, “They’re called the erm _—_ Warm Gorillas.” 

Peter frowned, and Yasmin barely managed to cover a snort. “Warm… Gorillas?”

“Yes.” Jane replied bluntly, a little over confident.

“Right.” Peter spoke with bemusement, taking a step back. “Well, I’m sure I’ll see you soon, Yasmin. Good to meet you Jane.”

“Likewise.” Jane smiled politely as Peter turned away.

The two women made their way out of the bar, and it was then that Yasmin could no longer hold back her laughter.

“What?” Jane asked in confusion. “What’s so funny?” 

“Warm Gorillas?!” Yasmin laughed, “You were just making that up weren’t you?”

Jane pouted and Yasmin’s chest warmed at how adorable it was, “No! Of course not.”

“Jane…” 

“They really do exist.” Jane lied terribly. 

“Of course they do.” Yasmin replied sarcastically as she began walking in the direction of her home. 

Jane quickly caught up with her, matching her steps as they strolled through the brisk night, stars shining brightly in the clear sky. To look at them made Yasmin feel wistful _—_ she wasn’t sure why.

“Do you ever wonder what it’s like out there?” Yasmin murmured into the cool breeze. 

“Always.” Jane’s voice was hoarse when she spoke, and it caught Yasmin’s attention. She watched as her friend’s throat bobbed with a heavy swallow, eyes still focused where Yasmin’s no longer were. 

“Jane…” Yasmin breathed, and when Jane’s eyes moved to meet her own, she blinked away the tears that had formed a little too slow to get away with. “Are you ok?”

Jane cleared her throat, hands falling into her pockets again like a safety net as she smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m fine.”

Yasmin went to speak again, but Jane carried on. “I promise.” 

The two women walked in silence for a while before Jane spoke again, nerves radiating from her form. “Yasmin?” she asked quietly, eyes locked on something in the distance.

“Hm?”

“Do you love your husband?”

Yasmin froze. Legs seizing halfway through a step, her whole body tense. Jane took a couple more steps before she realised Yasmin was no longer by her side. Yasmin saw her take a deep breath in before turning, hazel-green meeting her own. 

“Of co–” Yasmin’s mind went to an automatic response. Of course she loved Oliver, had loved him for as long as she could remember. How long was that exactly? Thinking too far back made her head hurt, any memories of a long term past with her husband refusing to travel through her synapses to the forefront of her mind. It was odd, that she struggled to remember so much, but there were more pressing matters right now. 

_ Do you love your husband?  _

It was a loaded question. It made Yasmin’s heart race, a heated anxiety sending her body into a flush as she considered the question.  _ Really considered. _

She thought about how she felt around Oliver, compared to how she felt around Jane _—_ and the difference was terrifying.

Scary, but in a way that felt exciting. She’d never considered women that way before. Yet, as Jane stood in front her, emerald orbs staring deep into her soul as they shone in the moonlight _—_ Yasmin was sure she was feeling more in that moment than she had felt her entire marriage. 

Something about Jane made her feel alive, like her world had burst with colour ever since she’d stepped into it. Before it was just a murky grey of complacency. 

“I…” Yasmin paused, a small breath escaping her. She could hear her heart in her ears it was beating so loud. “I don’t know.” she answered, finally, breaking the tense silence as electricity crackled between them. 

Jane nodded, a smile pulling at her lips, dimples denting her cheeks slightly. “Okay.” 

It was a simple answer, no particular emotion tied to it, and it only confused Yasmin more. Why had Jane asked? Why such a vague answer? Did she feel the same around Yasmin as she felt around Jane? 

They started walking again, the silence thick, both women trapped in their minds, lost in thought. Yasmin supposed she should feel more guilty for her feelings. She  _ did  _ have a husband after all. Yet there was this disconnect, between her and Oliver, that she’d never understood. It was like he was filling a gap, but the puzzle piece didn’t fit. Something hid behind it though, and the puzzle piece had been shoved into place so hard that it was stuck at an awkward angle that made things fuzzy around the edges. A little like what she could feel at the back of her mind if she thought about it hard enough _—_ until it started to hurt and she stopped. 

Yasmin had never noticed it before, but now it niggled away at her. 

“We’re here.” she heard in the distance, lifting her head to find them standing outside her home. The lights were all off, meaning either Oliver was in bed or still out. Yasmin hoped it was the latter. 

“Right.” Yasmin smiled, and they both lingered, neither woman making an attempt to move. So Yasmin filled the awkward silence with a question. “Will you be ok getting home?”

“‘Course!” Jane grinned a little too hard, and Yasmin nodded at her answer.

“Ok. Well _—_ goodnight.” Yasmin said with a small wave, starting off down the small path to her home.

Before she could get to the door however, a hand clasped her elbow. “Yasmin, wait.”

Yasmin turned back to Jane, hope bubbling in her gut, though she wasn’t sure what she was hoping for, exactly. 

“I’m sorry, about what I asked you. It was rude of me _—_ to ask you something so personal. Me and my big mouth.” Jane huffed with embarrassment, pale cheeks flushing. 

“Jane,” Yasmin rested a hand on her friend’s arm, “It’s ok. I didn’t mind the question.”

“Oh,” Jane’s eyes widened, “Oh ok. Good.” she nodded hastily, “Very good.”

Yasmin smiled at Jane’s awkward response, the other woman smiling softly back.

“Goodnight, Jane.” Yasmin said gingerly.

“Goodnight, Yasmin.”

If Jane hadn’t shocked Yasmin enough earlier with her question, she only doubled the sensation now, leaning in to press the lightest of kisses to Yasmin’s cheek, soft lips brushing her skin before pulling away, the ghost of the touch remaining. 

Jane’s smile was smug as she leaned back, hand falling from Yasmin’s elbow as she stepped back to turn away and walk down the street. 

Yasmin stayed frozen to the spot for a moment, watching Jane walk away until she turned the corner, the tips of her fingers ghosting over where Jane’s lips had brushed. Her cheeks were warm though the breeze was cold, Yasmin’s lips tugging upwards in a shy smile. 

To her luck, Yasmin headed inside to an empty home, Oliver yet to return. It was a blessing and curse. She’d managed to get away with going out, yet the lateness of the hour meant her husband would return home drunk and loud. 

As she readied herself for bed, Jane was the only thing on Yasmin’s mind, the last few seconds of their evening together replaying over and over in her mind. She knew she should stop. She had a  _ husband _ , even though he barely felt like one. Had he ever felt like one? It was another question for Yasmin to ponder now that Jane had awakened her world, her mind doing the opposite when her head hit the pillow, a busy evening meaning she was quickly pulled into the depths of slumber to dream about an unusual blue box once more. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we back!! sorry it took so long for an update but i literally wrote this chapter in couple hours when inspo hit me like a brick. i dunno if i'm super happy with how it turned out but if i keep mulling it over im never gonna post it 
> 
> anyway this is chapter is pretty intense so i hope you weren't expecting another cute chapter bc you ain't getting it this update
> 
> TW/ abusive relationship 
> 
> you can always dm on twitter if you need to if you wanna ask about details before reading, stay safe ppl <3

It had been a few days since Yasmin had last seen Jane, mind still racing with thoughts of soft blonde hair and a dashing smile as she readied herself for the day. 

She’d just started stepping into her dress when Oliver burst into the bedroom.

“You saw her again?!”

Yasmin’s heart dropped into her stomach at the accusation, she was a terrible liar. “No.” she tried, feebly holding eye contact as her husband's glare bore into her. He strode toward her, his speed forcing her to take a step back, dress dropping to the ground as she stepped out of the pool it made around her feet. Except Oliver didn’t stop, kept going until he reached out to her, hands gripping her wrists when she reached out to try stop him.

There was an echoing slam that thrummed through the house as her back smacked into the wall behind her, hands planted either side of her head. Her head hit the wall with a grunt as she held her husband’s scowl. 

“What did I tell you?! I told you not to see her again! Are you just ignoring everything I saw now, Yasmin?” he snarled, flecks of spit hitting her cheek in his fury. 

Yasmin’s heart pounded in her chest as adrenaline mixed with fear coursed through her veins. Yet she held her ground, refusing to waver as her jawed clenched and her gaze burrowed intensely into Oliver’s own. She wondered where this newfound bravery had come from, though it only took her a moment to figure it out. She got it from the very woman they were arguing about right now. Jane was a good influence on her, made her better, made her brave, made her laugh in a way the man in front of her never did. She refused to have that taken away from her. 

“I’m a grown woman, Oliver. I can do what I like.” she spat back, the statement doing nothing to calm her husband’s rage, his grip only growing tighter on her wrists, enough to bruise when fingernails digging into dark flesh made her flinch. 

“ _ You  _ _—_ are my wife!” he barked, “And you will do as I tell you, not gallivant off on your own. I don’t like how she’s changed you, Yasmin. You’re mine, and you’ll do as I say when I ask.” his eyes darkened and Yasmin had to swallow the lump in her throat when his eyes raked over her form lewdly. “You can do that for me now, actually,” he started, dragging her arms up the wall until they met above her head where a strong hand held both her wrists in the place. 

Yasmin sucked in a harsh breath when Oliver’s free palm lay flat against her toned stomach, fingers splayed as his thumb stroked small circles over dark flesh. “Make it up to me?” he stated more than asked, eyes meeting hers as his lips twitched into a hungry smirk, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” 

Yasmin did nothing but glare at him, refusing to answer to his request, keeping up her brave facade until his hand started to wander south. It was then that panic started to set in, Yasmin’s eyes widening as his hand continued its journey, “Oliver, no.” she protested firmly, though her voice wavered and he didn’t stop. 

The complete lack of disregard for her own feelings wasn’t something Yasmin had seen in Oliver before, and she suddenly felt like she wasn’t the only one who had changed, except he’d changed for the worse. When broad fingers teased at the hem of Yasmin’s underwear, anger at Oliver’s disrespect took over as she instinctively shot her knee up, driving it straight into his groan as he cried out, collapsing to the floor with harsh thud, hands grasping at the pain Yasmin had caused him. 

“Don’t you  _ dare,  _ try that again, Oliver.” Yasmin seethed, frantically tugging on her dress with shaking hands before storming out the room.

“You’re going to regret that, Yasmin!” Oliver shouted after her from where he sat crumpled on the floor, bristling with rage. 

* * *

Dark clouds loomed over the city when Yasmin stepped outside, striding away from her home, unsure of where her feet were taking her. She just knew that she had to get away. That Oliver needed some space to cool off, and she needed her own to calm down. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, slowing her pace and spacing her out until she realised she’d unconsciously reached the park. 

Yasmin came to a stop at the nearest bench, perching herself on the hardwood as her elbows came to rest on her knees, eyes focusing on the ground as she felt her bottom lip tremble and eyes fill with tears. 

Now she’d sat for a moment, she was finally processing what happened, what  _ could’ve  _ happened, and was suddenly grateful for the loose curls concealing her features from prying eyes. Tears dripped freely into her lap as she sniffed quietly, not wanting to draw attention to herself as she tensed her shoulders, stiffening them so as to stop them from shaking with muted sobs. 

All Yasmin could think about was that she wanted to see Jane. Her kind eyes and warming smile that would undoubtedly make her feel better at just the sight of them. She wanted Jane to wrap her up in her arms, let her cry into her shoulder as she stroked through dark hair and told her it would be ok. There was something else Yasmin wanted too, something she was too scared to confront even in her own mind. Yet, the thought of Jane’s lips on her own was a thought she continually struggled to deny, like now. 

The revelation she was attracted to Jane was terrifying, and she inwardly judged herself for the attraction, years of society ingrained into her, forcing her to assume it wrong to love another woman. Yet, love was a strong word, but the warmth in her chest whenever she saw Jane suggested otherwise. 

It scared her in a way that was delightfully exciting.

Thinking about Jane had calmed her considerably, so Yasmin wiped her wet cheeks, took a deep breath and stood. She walked around the park as she thought about what her husband had said. How did he know? How did he know Yasmin had seen Jane again? He’d come home drunk that night, stinking of beer and sweat and had claimed to barely remember the night the next morning. So  _ how  _ did he know? 

_ Ah.  _

Yasmin stopped in her tracks when the realisation clicked into the place.

She remembered now. Her and Jane had bumped into Peter. 

_ “Yasmin! I thought it was you! No Oliver?” _

Cursing under breath, Yasmin started up a brisk walk as she replayed memory in the back of her mind. Of course it was Peter. He’d never liked her.

* * *

It was past midday when Yasmin returned home, skittish as she opened the front door, relaxing when she found the house empty. The bedroom was still a mess from the morning scuffle, and Yasmin chose to ignore it, instead opting for the kitchen and a cup of tea.

Once her tea was brewed, Yasmin found herself sitting in their small back garden, the clouds having cleared after thankfully not raining down on her. She sipped her tea and watched the birds, taking the time to style her hair into a loose braid that hung over her shoulder, draping down her front. 

She wasn’t sure how long it was before she eventually heard the front door creak open and closed. Footsteps echoed through the house until they hit soft grass where the sound muffled as they stepped toward her. Yasmin tensed, refusing to look behind at her husband, jumping when a gentle hand came to rest on her shoulder. 

There was a tense pause before Oliver finally spoke. “I’m sorry.” 

Yasmin was surprised by his words as he sat down on the chair next to her, placing his hat on the table in front of them. “I don’t know what came over me this morning. It was wrong.”

“It was.” Yasmin agreed sharply as she crossed one leg over the other. 

“I went and spoke with Peter.” Yasmin tensed at the name of the man responsible for all of this, “You know it was him don’t you? It was him that told me.”

“Yes. I figured.”

“Right,” he cleared his throat, loosening the tie around his neck awkwardly before leaning back and lighting a cigarette. He offered Yasmin one _—_ she declined. “He didn’t realise the tension between Jane and I regarding you. Thought it nothing when he told me he’d seen you two together.” 

Yasmin rolled her eyes. Peter was a naturally suspicious man, he  _ knew  _ Yasmin wasn’t supposed to be out that night. Knew exactly what he was doing when he told Oliver. Yasmin could just imagine his faux innocence, it made disgust curdle in her gut. 

“But he discussed reasonable perspectives with me, made me realise I can’t stop you from seeing her. You’re going to see her around, and so am I, probably.” his tone was gentle as he spoke, though Yasmin couldn’t quite shake the feeling something was off, the glint in Oliver’s eye worsening her fear. Yet she hid her worry for now, continuing to play the game she presumed he was playing. 

“I just want you to know I was looking out for you, Yasmin, that’s all. I don’t like her. I still think she’s bad news but I can’t stop you from seeing each other, I suppose. That wouldn’t be right of me.” Oliver took a long drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out on the table. 

Yasmin was about to question him about his change of heart when she spotted it. His bruised knuckles, speckled with dry blood. Yasmin’s gaze slowly roamed over Oliver, her mouth going dry at the sight of blood spatter staining his shirt, barely concealed by his blazer. She felt sick when she reached his face, spotting deep red dotted along his jaw. 

Yasmin knew the colour had drained from her face. She felt like her cup of tea was about to make a second appearance as a wave of nausea washed over. She  _ knew  _ that was Jane’s blood. She could tell from the way Oliver was speaking, from the glint in his eye, his pupils still blown with the leftover adrenaline that came hand in hand with violence. 

He smiled sickly sweet at her as he reached out a bruised hand to rest over her own, gaze intense when it locked with Yasmin’s, “I still love you, Yasmin. So much. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Can you forgive me?” he asked, eyes pleading though something menacing lay behind them.

Yasmin slowly stood, his hand falling from her own as he looked up at her in confusion. “Yasmin?” 

Her eyes felt watery, her whole body tense with dread, nausea still swirling in the pit of her stomach as she calmly stepped back like prey trying not to entice the predator after its lunch. In her mind, Yasmin came to a conclusion, and a feeling of overwhelming peace ran through her as she gazed down at Oliver, a tear slipping from her eye as she spoke words she knew would change her life forever. 

“I want a divorce, Oliver.” she said with stern finality, before turning on her heel and rushing for the door as Oliver shouted after her. 

The door to their home slammed against the wall behind her as she ran down the street and straight toward the only place she felt safe. The only place she knew Jane might be. As she ran, Yasmin inwardly cursed herself for not knowing where Jane lived, hoping and praying that she would be at the bar. 

Bursting through the doors, ignoring the scolds of patrons at the racket she made, Yasmin spotted the manager behind the bar. 

“Excuse me!” she called out to him, palms pressing down on cool granite, the feeling almost grounding her in her panic as her heart pounded with a crushing sense of fear. 

“Can I help you madam?”

“Yes, is Jane here?” she asked, whole body buzzing with an array of emotions. 

The manager frowned, his stance shifting to defensive, “Why?” 

“Please I just need to know she’s ok. I’m worried something’s happened to her.” Yasmin pleaded, tears forming in her eyes once more.

The manager must’ve sensed her sincerity as his face changed and his stance slackened, eyeing the barman next to him in silent conversation. “She’s in her dressing room.” he spoke quietly, nodding toward the hallway where Yasmin would find Jane. 

“Thank you!” Yasmin said, and she meant it as she rushed down the hallway until she stood outside the dressing room door. 

Yasmin took a breath before twisting the handle, her face twisting in horror at the sight before her. 

“Jane?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will i ever end a chapter not on cliffhanger? no <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: doesn't update this for nearly a month  
> also me: updates 2 days in a row
> 
> I SPOIL YOU. 
> 
> penultimate chapter lads!! only proofread once so sorry if there are any mistakes! lmk if u want !!

_ “Jane?!” _

* * *

Yasmin quickly shut the door behind her before rushing over to her bloodied friend. “What did he do to you?” Yasmin asked, her eyes damp and voice trembling through the question.

Jane groaned as she dabbed her split lip with an already red stained hanky, “You mean him and his mates.” 

“What?” 

Jane paused for a moment, hand falling weakly into her lamp as she flinched at the pain sparking through a different part of her body. “Oliver,” Jane wheezed, “And his mates _—_ they came here and barged into my dressing room,” she took another breath, coughing when she sucked in too much air for her freshly damaged ribs to handle, “One of them held the door shut while Ronnie,” Yasmin frowned in confusion, “My manager,”

“Oh,”

“Was trying to get in. The rest is pretty self explanatory.” Jane drawled as she gestured to her body.

It was impossible for Yasmin to stop the tears falling from her eyes at the sight of her friend, guilt consuming her form and clenching at her heart, “This is my fault,” she uttered as she covered her mouth to hide a sob.

“What?” Jane’s brow furrows with concern, “Don’t be daft,  _ none  _ of this is your fault Yasmin, you had no part in their decision to do this.”

“But _—_ but if you hadn’t met me, or if I’d have just let him,” Yasmin trailed off as she thought about what happened that morning. 

“Let him what?” Jane croaked.

Yasmin shook her head, “Nothing.”

“What, Yasmin? What did he do?” Fear spiked through Jane’s tone as she sat up a little straighter, eyes growing wide.

“Nothing, Jane. It doesn’t matter. Looking after you is more important right now.” 

“Yasmin–”

“Come here,” Yasmin said, wiping her eyes before sitting down on the chair opposite Jane and picking up a fresh hanky, pinching Jane’s chin between her thumb and forefinger as she dabbed gently at her lip. 

She kept her full focus on Jane’s lips, trying not to catch the other woman’s gaze as a thousand thoughts of Jane’s mouth on her own raced through her mind. 

Once the cut was cleaned up, Yasmin sat back, gaze roaming over Jane’s face as she took in the full extent of her injuries. Dry blood congealed on her upper lip where it had leaked from her nose and her left eye was bruised and swelling. A cut on her brow bone left a small gash through her eyebrow, and another bruise painted Jane’s jaw purple and green. The sight of her looking so beaten brought more tears to Yasmin’s eyes that Jane clocked instantly. 

“Hey, Yasmin, this isn’t your fault, ok?”

Yasmin nodded, sniffing timidly as a tear trickled freely down her cheek, briskly wiped away by Jane’s thumb. 

“I know _—_ I just, I’m so sorry they did this to you.” Yasmin’s voice was watery, throat clamming up in a way she couldn’t control. Though Yasmin forced herself to swallow hard, righting her posture as she pulled the chair closer so her and Jane’s thighs slotted between each others. “Right,” she sniffed, “We need to clean the rest up.”

“Yasmin, I’ll be fine, I promise, don’t worry about–”

“Jane,” Yasmin warned with a stern tone and the quirk of a brow that had Jane’s lip twitching upwards as she raised her hands in surrender. 

“Ok, ok. Have at it.” 

They sat in silence as Yasmin cleaned up Jane’s face, her own cheeks flushing at their proximity. As Yasmin disinfected the wound on Jane’s brow she was extremely delicate, not wanting to get any of the rubbing alcohol in her already sore eye. It meant Yasmin unconsciously edged closer in her concentration until she could feel warm breath brushing her cheek. When she glanced down briefly, Jane’s usually pale complexion was flushed pink. It only sought to make her question their relationship further.

Yasmin moved away slowly when she was finished, not wanting to get lost in the hazel-green of Jane’s eyes, her gaze shifting to focus on the darkened edges of her left eye. “I’m gonna pop to the bar and get some ice for that eye, ok?” 

Jane simply nodded as Yasmin stood, seemingly lost in thought. 

Ronnie was considerably nicer this time around, passing Yasmin a towel full of ice over the bar that she accepted gratefully, along with the neat whisky he poured for the injured woman.

Yasmin was back at Jane’s dressing room in no time, opening the door to find her no longer sat at the chair of her vanity and instead trying to lower herself onto the sofa with a pained groan. 

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Yasmin barked, discarding the ice and whisky on the side to help Jane gently sit down. 

“Sofas much comfier.” Jane stated, face scrunched up in pain as her backside finally met soft cushions. “Much better.” she sighed contentedly, though her eyes were yet to open.

Yasmin took the opportunity to place the ice over Jane’s swollen eye, the blonde almost shrieking at the cold sensation. “Blimey, Yasmin! Could’ve warned me!”

“Sorry,” Yasmin grimaced, passing her the whisky Ronnie had poured for her. Jane’s nose scrunched up at the drink.

“I hate whisky.” 

Yasmin frowned, “Why did he pour it then?”

“I think the purpose of it is more medicinal than pleasure.” she said before necking it back in one go and hissing through her teeth as it burned down her throat, “And that was not pleasurable at all.” she finished, handing the glass back to Yasmin who placed it on the side.

“Where else does it hurt?” Yasmin asked tentatively, as Jane’s eyes struggled to meet her own. 

“Nowhere, I’m fine.” 

It was a rubbish lie. 

“Jane,”

“Yasmin,"

Is it your ribs?” Yasmin pressed.

“I told you I’m–”

“Jane!” Yasmin cut her off, frustration building behind her eyes at the woman’s stubbornness, “Let me help you,  _ please.  _ I know you’re hurt. Stop lying to me.”

Jane stared guiltily at her lap before letting out a resigned sigh. “My ribs,” she admitted. “They got me on the floor and kicked me in the ribs _—_ repeatedly.” 

Yasmin’s heart broke at the thought of Jane having to experience such pain _—_ anger and sadness pooling deep in her gut for the woman sat next to her. “How can I help?” she offered quietly, Jane’s gentle gaze finally meeting her own.

“It’ll be fine they’ll–” Jane cut herself off at the look in Yasmin’s eyes, determination set deep in brown irises as she nodded down at her chest. “Think a couple might be cracked or broken, could do with wrapping them so they heal properly.” 

Jane shucked her blazer from her shoulders, beginning to unbutton her shirt as Yasmin’s gaze suddenly darted away, her cheeks ablaze.

“What’re you,” Jane started, quickly realising what had Yasmin so flustered, “Oh! Right, sorry. Um, do you mind me doing this? I mean I can do it myself but _—_ help would be nice.” she admitted quietly, and Yasmin briefly felt smug at Jane’s words. She calmed herself before turning back to Jane. 

“Of course I’ll help.” she said, moving from the sofa to rest on her knees between Jane’s legs as she unbuttoned the rest of her shirt and carefully removed it to reveal a strange sort of pullover bra covering the Doctor’s chest. A chest which was black and blue,  _ covered  _ in bruises and reddening marks. 

“Looks worse than it feels?” Jane tried, but the look Yasmin shot her in return kept her quiet. 

“Jane,” Yasmin breathed, fingertips coming up to brush feather light over damaged ribs as she felt herself welling up at the sight, “Look what they did to you.” 

“It’s o–”

“It’s  _ not  _ ok.” Yasmin argued, “None of this is ok. This should’ve never happened.”

“What’s done is done, Yasmin.” Jane accepted, her hands coming to rest on Yasmin’s shoulders with a reassuring squeeze. “I’m just glad you’re the one looking after me now.” she smiled sincerely, gaze softening as she took in the worry etched on Yasmin’s features before speaking up again. “Now, sorry about this but, if we’re gonna do this properly, I need you to help me take off my bra.”

Yasmin’s eyes widened in shock, choking on air as her heart raced at the mere thought. 

“Yeah, sorry. Not very modest, I know.” Jane grimaced.

Yasmin snapped out of her Jane filled thoughts and back into the present where the woman sat half dressed in front of her. Shaking her head as she spoke, Yasmin moved to grab the roll of bandages from the first aid kit. “No, no, it’s ok,” she stuttered, “I’ll help.” she said resolutely before carefully pushing her fingertips under the elastic of the bra, apologising as Jane winced at the light tug as she pulled it up and over her chest. Jane groaned as she lifted her arms, bruised muscles and damaged bone protesting as she stretched them over her head. 

She let out a deep breath once the garment was removed, sweat tinting her brow at the pain of over exertion on her injuries. 

“Sorry.” Yasmin apologised, forcing herself to not focus on Jane’s now bare chest as she slowly began wrapping the bandage around her ribs.

“Don’t apologise,” Jane breathed, eyes scrunched shut, hands gripping a little tighter on Yasmin’s shoulders when the bandage wrapped around a particularly sore area. 

Yasmin’s cheeks were on fire by the time she’d finished, standing to carefully drape Jane’s blazer over her shoulders to cover her half naked form.

“Thank you,” she spoke gently, offering Yasmin a kind smile that was quickly returned.

They both relaxed into the sofa as a brief silence filled the room, sat so close that their thighs were touching. After a short while, Jane’s gaze lifted from her lap to focus intently on Yasmin.

“Yasmin?” Jane spoke quietly.

“Yes?”

“What did Oliver do?” Jane asked, bringing back her earlier question as Yasmin’s shoulders tensed, eyes on the wall in front of her, feeling too ashamed to look Jane in the eye.

“Nothing.” she said flatly. 

“Yasmin, please.” Yasmin felt a sudden pressure on her thigh, looking down to find Jane’s palm resting there, thumb rubbing back and forth in a comforting gesture. Yasmin’s skin practically buzzed under Jane’s touch, she felt a sudden warmth shoot throughout her body, originating from the point of contact. She finally looked at Jane then, her eyes kind and full of understanding and patience as she smiled softly. 

Jane had a face you could trust, and it’s what made Yasmin give in and confess the morning's events, the blonde’s grip tightening slightly as she went on. Yet, when she neared the end of her explanation, Jane’s grip loosened as Yasmin’s voice started to waver, eyes glazing over as she held back tears.

Yasmin took a deep breath before finishing, “I asked him for a divorce.” 

Jane’s thumb froze its ministrations on Yasmin’s thigh, her eyes as wide as saucers, jaw slackening at the statement. “What?”

“I asked him for a divorce.” Yasmin repeated, worrying her lip at Jane’s lack of response as her heart pounded in her chest, “Do you think I did the right thing?”

“Yes.” Jane responded instantly, barely a breath between Yasmin’s words and Jane’s. 

“Really?” Yasmin asked, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“Yes. Absolutely. He was no good for you, Yasmin. You deserve far better.” Jane nodded in reassurance, the confidence in her tone calming Yasmin’s heart. 

“I wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t for you.” Yasmin confessed, face heating up as she thought of her reasoning. She held Jane’s gaze though, the other woman’s eyes softening and crinkling at the edges as she tried to fight against a grin. 

“Why?” Jane uttered, hazel-green eyes deep and intense as they sucked Yasmin in. She couldn’t go back now, couldn’t look away _—_ she didn’t want to.

“Because,” Yasmin sucked in a breath, gathering all her courage as her heart smacked against her ribs with every beat, her hand moving to clasp the one that rested on her thigh, “You make me feel so alive, Jane. Ever since I met you, I feel like I’m actually  _ living _ , instead of being the person people here expect me to be. You make me feel things I’ve not felt before, not even for my husband, and it’s so confusing, this pull I have toward you, like it’s unconscious in the back of my mind. It’s gravitational, and I don’t want to stop it.”

Yasmin could feel the tears leaking from her eyes, paying them no mind as they rolled down her cheeks. Jane’s free hand came up to cup her jaw gently, thumb smoothing over her warm cheek to wipe away her tears as she leaned into the touch. “When I’m with you, Jane, it’s like my whole body is buzzing, and when I’m not, I can’t stop thinking about you. I was terrified at first, I didn’t understand it _—_ but now I do.”

Yasmin wasn’t sure when they’re faces inched closer, but now she could see every fleck of gold in Jane’s eyes, like they were the stars and her blown pupils were the rest of a universe that she was  _ oh so  _ ready to explore. Her gaze darted over her features, capturing every part of her and storing in a special place in her mind, a photo album to be forever treasured, even as it wore over time. “I never loved Oliver.” she stated, watching Jane’s eyes widen again.

“But I think,” Yasmin’s gaze faltered, until Jane’s index finger caught her chin, lifting it a touch until deep brown met green, the blonde’s expression warm and inviting, her small smile full of encouragement.

“Think what, Yasmin,” Jane whispered, their faces millimetres apart as the sight of each other's slightly parted lips became irresistible.

“I think I love you.”

Jane’s breath stuttered, and it felt like time froze, the universe only pressing play when Jane’s hand moved from her jaw to cup the back of her neck, fingers running through the baby hairs that were free of her braid. Jane’s nails tickled her skin, goosebumps rising as she scratched lightly. Freeing her other hand from Yasmin’s, Jane lifted it to stroke the tip of soft fingertips along the line of Yasmin’s jaw, stopping at her chin where her thumb ran over Yasmin’s lower lip as her tongue darted out to swipe along her own.

Yasmin’s heart was racing a mile a minute, every cell in her body buzzing as she relaxed into Jane’s touch while at the same time feeling the most tense she’d ever felt. “Do you?” Jane breathed, hot air hitting Yasmin’s lips and making her lean forward a little more.

“Yes.” she whispered, their lips  _ almost  _ brushing. Yasmin gasped at the proximity, eyes fluttering shut, breath stuttering as their noses bumped lightly, “Jane, please,” 

Jane adhered to Yasmin’s request, her upper lip just grazing Yasmin’s when a knock on Jane’s dressing room door had both women freezing on the spot.

“Jane? You alright? Can I come in?” It was Ronnie.

Jane sighed in irritation, a puff of air brushing Yasmin’s lips as Jane pressed their foreheads together, eyes closing briefly as she stroked Yasmin’s cheek with a soft palm before slowly pulling away with a regretful smile. Both women were flushed, goosebumps still trailing over Yasmin’s skin as she sat back and took a deep breath, calming herself after such an overwhelmingly intimate moment. 

“One sec, Ronnie!” Jane called out as she sat up straight, “Will you help me put a clean shirt on? The other one’s a bit bloody.” she then spoke quietly, turning to Yasmin with a flinch at the abrupt movement. 

“Of course.” Yasmin nodded, moving to grab a shirt before making her way back over to Jane and slowly helping her maneuver into the garment. Kneeling in front of her again, Yasmin buttoned up the shirt, leaving the collar open, hands shifting to run down Jane’s upper arms. “Perfect.” she stated, smiling up at Jane who was already beaming down at her. 

“Brilliant, thanks Yaz.” 

Yasmin frowned in confusion at the nickname, but ignored it for the time being when Jane didn’t acknowledge it, instead helping the blonde to her feet and carefully guiding her to the door which Jane opened to the sight of her manager. “Alright, Ronnie?” 

“Yeah, yeah, just wanted to see how you were doing, darling.”

“Much better now thanks to Yasmin.” Jane smiled politely, gesturing to said woman.

“Well, I’m very thankful Yasmin. Jane’s my best performer, I care about her very much. Can’t have nothing bad happening to her. Though you are certainly taking a break before getting on stage again _—_ _ ah! _ _—_ Don’t even try to convince me, it ain’t happening.” Ronnie argued when Jane tried to protest, her sudden pout making Yasmin giggle. 

“Anyways, I’m glad you’re alright. Feel free to stick around until you’re ready to head home, alright? Drinks on the house.” 

“Thank you, Ronnie.” Jane said with genuine thanks, a kind smile on her lips, one of Yasmin’s favourites, she’d decided. 

“No problem.” 

Ronnie shut the door behind him as Jane turned to Yasmin with an apologetic look, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s ok.” Yasmin reassured, almost jumping when she felt fingertips lace with her own.

Jane pulled her lightly, forcing Yasmin to take a step closer as gold flecked eyes flitted to her lips with a smirk, “Now, Yasmin–”

“Jane?” Yasmin interrupted, surprising even herself considering how much she wanted Jane’s lips on her own. 

“Hm?” 

“Earlier,” Yasmin started, suddenly feeling nervous, “You called me Yaz. You’ve done that before. And with my last name, you’ve gone to call me something else and corrected yourself. I’ve always thought it a bit strange.”

Yasmin watched as something behind Jane’s eyes changed. Was it _—_ panic?

“Oh, that’s probably just me and my brain.” Jane said, dopily pointing to her temple, “Always a mile a minute up there, made a silly mistake that’s all.”

Yasmin frowned, dissatisfied, “There’s also _—_ this look you give me sometimes, it’s sad. Heartbreakingly sad and I’m not sure why. It reminds me of grief.”

Jane huffed a laugh, though it sounded strained as her smile dropped and the crease in her brow deepened, “Yasmin, I don’t know what you–”

“And my dreams,” Yasmin carried on, knowing she couldn’t stop now, “I dream of you, and yes that might be down to love but it just  _ feels  _ like something more. There’s this blue box I see in them, and it’s extraordinary! You step inside and it’s bigger than it appears on the outside.”

As she speaks, Yasmin can feel a grin forming on her lips, “And it’s so warm and inviting, all oranges and blues with these huge towering crystals. It’s truly wondrous, like it’s a whole other world. And then there’s you. Always stood in the middle. Always in the most bizarre outfit. And that’s when I wake. When I’ve dreamed of you and that box, Jane, I’ve always wished I’d slept a little longer, just to stay with you in that magical place.”

“Yas–”

“Sometimes I think those dreams feel so real. And sometimes I think they’re connected to this magnetic pull I feel towards you that I can’t control. I don’t want to control it, Jane, I want to be near you, I want you to k–” Yasmin flushed and cleared her throat, “But I’m confused, and when I try to  _ really  _ think about it, it hurts my head.” Before finishing, she let out a tired sigh, “Just tell me I’m not going mad _—_ please?” 

Jane held her gaze, eyes squinting like she was trying to decipher something, consider everything Yasmin had said. Eventually, her features softened, the corners of her eyes no longer crinkling adorably in thought. A comforting smile lifted Jane’s lips upwards as she pulled Yasmin back toward the sofa. 

“Come sit with me.” she gestured, before allowing Yasmin help her sit down. 

Once both seated, hands still interlocked and knees knocking, Jane sucked in a deep breath through her nose. When she looked up, gaze meeting Yasmin's, her eyes were full of honesty. “You’re not going mad. You’re absolutely right, and yes, there is a reason you feel a pull towards me.” Her hand squeezed Yasmin’s in reassurance before carrying on, “I’m only telling you this because we’re safe now.  _ You're _ safe, and all of this was going to be over soon anyway.”

Yasmin’s brow pinched as confusion creased her features, “What do you mean?” 

“I’ll explain everything, Yasmin, I promise. But first, I have a question for you,”

Jane waited a moment until Yasmin nodded her head in anticipation.

“Will you run away with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOOOOL DON'T HATE ME TOO MUCH FOR THE ALMOST KISS


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> final chapter guys!! i just wanna say a massive massive thank you to everyone that has commented and continually supported this story, seeing your excitement and love for each chapter and this concept has really kept me going <3
> 
> i hope i did the ending justice and i really hope u enjoy 
> 
> love u all lots <3

_"But first, I have a question for you,”_

_Jane waited a moment until Yasmin nodded her head in anticipation._

_“Will you run away with me?”_

* * *

“Jane!” Yasmin called out as the other woman pulled her along, pushing past bystanders as they made their way along the street. “Jane slow down you’re going to hurt yourself even more!” she chided though the blonde continued to ignore her.

“Come on, Yasmin! Not far now!” Jane looked over her shoulder with a bright grin though she winced at the tug on her ribs. She squeezed Yasmin’s hand as they rounded the corner. “Just down here.” 

As they neared the alleyway Jane pointed to, Yasmin started to wonder whether her friend had concussion. She was stumped as to why she was being led here, what would Jane want to show her that was hidden in an alley? Yet, as soon as they stepped around the corner, Yasmin’s heart skipped a beat and her feet froze to the floor. Jane kept walking, only halting when she felt the tug of Yasmins’s hand in her own, stumbling when she was pulled back by her unmoving stance.

“Jane,” Yasmin breathed, managing to find her trembling voice, “That’s–”

“The blue box from your dreams, yes.” Jane finished for her, lips pulling together in a tight smile. “Now let’s get a shift on, Yasmin. No time to waste!” she said with insistence and a light tug on Yasmin’s hand. 

Yasmin took a slow step forward, then another, then a few more until she was level with deep blue doors. She swallowed hard and squeezed Jane’s hand in a desperate need for reassurance, the other woman giving her silent comfort with a gentle hand on her arm. “But _—_ how?” Yasmin spoke quietly, fingertips buzzing as they ran against the grain of wooden doors. It felt like there was a story in every deep set line. “How is this real? How is this possible? It’s _—_ it’s just my dreams, it can’t be real–”

“Oh it is real.” Jane beamed, “So _very_ real Yasmin. The answers you’re looking for are inside.”

“I want them now.” Yasmin’s gaze snapped to Jane’s, taking the other woman by surprise.

“Wh–”

“The answers Jane. I want them now. _Before_ I step inside. I want to understand what I’m stepping into. Literally _and_ figuratively.” 

Jane’s eyes sparkled at the stubborn determination of Yasmin’s answer, at the strength in her voice and her eyes as she spoke.

“Oh, Yasmin Khan,” she started, and Yasmin frowned at the surname, “I wouldn’t have expected any less from you.” 

“Khan?”

“That’s your real name. Yasmin Khan. Yasmin Brundle doesn’t actually exist.” Jane started to explain as she turned her whole body to face Yasmin.

“Wh–”

“This has all just been a cover. I had to hide you, and protect you from something that was after you. It had latched onto you _—_ in your mind.” Jane continued, hand reaching up to brush her thumb across Yasmin’s temple. 

Yasmin shook her head slightly, worry creasing her features. “I don’t understand?”

“You had a parasite in your brain. An alien parasite. The creature exists in physical form about the size of humans, but they can implant this mental parasite into any living being’s brain. It wasn’t a physical thing that was latched on, like I said, it was mental. Once it latches on, this _thing,_ it doesn’t let go. It follows you and gets worse and worse, the effects increasing as the physical creature gets closer in proximity.” Jane’s voice started to tremble as she spoke, her eyes on Yasmin but also far away, like her head was filled with the memories of what had happened.

“Anyway, it got so close that you started losing your mind. You started forgetting us as it ate away at your memories and don’t get me wrong, it wriggled itself a good way in. Because that’s what it feeds off. Memories. So _—_ I had to completely block yours off. You let me into your mind and I hid your memories behind a big locked door. Made an entirely new persona and whisked you far away from that thing. It lost its hold on you because it lost its hold on the memories it was eating. I basically debugged your brain and living this life was the reboot.” Her face scrunched up before she continued, “You won’t understand that analogy until you get your memories back.” 

Taking a deep breath, Jane linked her fingers with Yasmin’s own. “So that’s why we’re here, Yaz.” The nickname was jarring, but Yasmin let Jane carry on, “Hiding away in the 1940s. And we’re safe now, because the parasite has lost you entirely. Lost your scent and lost its hold on you. I can bring all your memories back now and repair anything that was damaged.” she said with a hopeful grin. “And then we go back into the universe. Back up into the stars and away from here. Together.” 

“But,” Yasmin lost her train of thought, trying to process everything Jane had just told her. “Aliens? They don’t exist.”

Jane huffed a laugh. “Oh yes they do. I’m one. Well _—_ to you anyway. You’re alien to me!”

Yasmin shook her head, eyes clamped shut in confusion. “No. You’re human. You look human! You–!”

“Put your hands on my chest, Yaz.” Yasmin’s eyes flicked up and down. From Jane’s eyes to her chest. “Go on.” Jane smiled encouragingly, guiding Yasmin’s hands to each side of her ribs.

There she felt the beat of two separate hearts. 

Yasmin yanked her hands away with a gasp, eyes wide and her own heart pounding in her chest. “How?! How _—_ that’s, that’s not possible?”

“But you felt it. You _know_ it is. I can see it in your eyes. You believe me. You trust me, Yaz."

“I _—_ I do. I trust you. I’d trust you with my life, Jane. Why?” Yasmin breathed, hands unconsciously reaching for Jane’s again. 

“You know why.” Jane whispered simply, and Yasmin agreed with a slow nod and big gulp.

“Yes.” she sighed. 

“So, do you want it all back now?” Jane asked, taking a step closer, hand moving up to brush a thumb over Yasmin’s temple again, “Or when we’re inside.” Her eyes glanced toward the blue box.

“Now.” Yasmin asserted. “I want it now.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Ok.” Jane nodded, releasing Yasmin’s hand to bring her’s up to the side of Yasmin’s face, the tips of their noses millimetres apart. 

“Jane?” Yasmin uttered.

“Hm?”

“Am I going to die?”

Jane pulled back in surprise. “What?” 

“Am I going to die? Me. Yasmin Brundle. When you ‘bring me back’, the other me. This me. She’s going to die isn’t she?”

Jane’s smile was small and remorseful when she bore her eyes into Yasmin’s own. “No. You’re not. You’ll always be in here,” Jane’s index finger tapped the side of Yasmin’s head, “Somewhere. She’ll remember all of this. And she’s you, Yaz.”

“Yasmin.”

“Huh?”

“Call me, Yasmin, before you do it.”

Jane’s smile grew as she nodded, her gaze sparkling with adoration. “Anything for you, Yasmin.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.” Jane parroted. 

“Kiss me,” Yasmin requested, “Before I go. Kiss me while I’m still Yasmin Brundle.” Yasmin’s eyes were intense as her gaze flitted between Jane’s own and her lips. A glossy sheen coating deep brown that stubbornly remained when Yasmin tried to blink it away. 

“How could I say no to a request such as that, Yasmin Brundle.” Jane whispered into the gap between their lips as Yasmin’s fingers curled around the back of her neck, linking together before pulling Jane in to close the torturous gap between them. 

When soft lips met Yasmin’s own, she felt a tear trickle down her cheek as sparks exploded through her body from where their mouths joined. Goosebumps tingled across her skin as she pulled Jane closer, sighing into the kiss as Jane’s lips pressed harder against her own. It was slow and deep and both of them poured everything they were feeling into the kiss as their mouths moved gently against one anothers, only pulling away when Yasmin had to come up for air. 

“I love you.” Yasmin muttered, eyelids heavy and breaths falling hard as her chest pressed against the tightness of her corset. “Does she love you too? The other me?”

Yasmin watched Jane’s throat bob as she pressed her forehead against Yasmin’s own, her thumb wiping away a stray tear on Yasmin’s cheek. Her eyes met Yasmin’s before she replied, her gaze never ending and full of honesty. “Yes.” she breathed against Yasmin’s lips, dipping forward as her eyes fluttered shut to capture them again.

Yasmin melted into the delicious pressure of Jane’s mouth on her own, so lost in the moment that she barely noticed the presence pressing gently into her mind, heading back deeper and deeper as Yasmin let her until she reached that door. 

Jane opened it.

Everything came back then, and Yasmin gasped into Jane’s mouth as her mind was flooded with memories new and old. Her family, Sheffield, Ryan, Graham, Grace, the Punjab, Prem, Dan, his daughter, _everything_ _—_ then finally, the Doctor. 

Her chest set ablaze with the love that consumed her form like a supernova gone critical. Hitting her full force and so intensely that she had to pull away, chest heaving as both women breathed into each other's mouths, eyes yet to open. 

It was Yasmin who opened hers first, deep brown eyes blinking open the other woman’s soft yet sharp features, fingers twisted tight in blonde locks.

“Doctor?” she uttered, and then full lashes fluttered open to reveal hazel-green. A grin tugged at the Doctor’s face then, pearly whites shining with unadulterated joy. 

“Yasmin Khan.” the Doctor replied. “It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back.” she returned, her smile shining just as brightly as the Doctor’s own as their foreheads stayed resting gently together, not an inch of space between them where their bodies pressed against one another. 

“So–” the Doctor started, “Ready to head back into the box?” she asked, a cheeky grin on her lips that Yaz was dying to kiss away.

“Always.” she replied, leaning in to capture the Doctor’s lips once more when _—_

“Yasmin?!” echoed down the alleyway. The two women sprung apart to watch Oliver march toward them. “I _knew_ it! I knew that disgusting woman had corrupted you. Now you’re just as vile as her. How could you do this to me? To us?! This is your fault.” Oliver pointed toward the Doctor and took another step toward her. “You did this. _You_ ruined our marriage.”

The two women turned to look at each other with complete disinterest. The Doctor failed to stifle a laugh as she spoke, “There was no marriage to start with, sorry.” the Doctor’s face scrunched though it was clear there was no apology in her voice. 

“And you know what?” Yaz stepped forward, putting herself between the Doctor and Oliver. “For the time I was with you, you were a terrible husband. So to be honest,” there was a pained cry as Oliver crumpled to the floor, grasping at his groin where Yaz had booted him heel first. “ _That_ is for this morning. Screw you, you arsehole.”

Then Yaz turned to face the Doctor, a faux innocent smile on her lips that she couldn’t hold when she laughed at the Doctor’s shocked expression. “Come on, Doctor!” she said as she pulled her toward the TARDIS, pushing open the door and stepping inside her second home, striding up to console with new found confidence. 

The Doctor looked back at the now shut doors, then back to Yaz, eyes still wide, jaw still slack. “I can’t believe you just did that!”

“Are you mad?” Yaz grimaced. 

“I mean _—_ no.” the Doctor shrugged, “He did deserve it.”

“He did.” Yaz agreed. 

Yaz watched as the Doctor strode up to meet her at the console, dancing around the controls as she whisked them away into the vortex before pulling a final handle down to still the humming ship. The Doctor slowly stepped around the console, hand reaching out for Yaz’s when she got close enough and accepting the slight tug as Yaz pulled her close. 

“So,” the Doctor grinned bashfully, excitement gleaming in her eyes. “You love me.”

“I do.” Yaz replied, the confession as easy as breathing. “And what about you? Do you love me too?”

“Yasmin Khan,” the Doctor closed the distance between them, bodies a breath away from being flush together as her knuckles grazed feather light over Yaz’s cheek, “Of course I do.” 

The gap between their lips closed then, Yaz leaning into the Doctor, hand coming up to comb through blonde locks, the Doctor’s hands falling to grip lightly at her waist as her tongue tentatively danced over Yaz’s lower lip. 

The story of Yasmin Brundle may have ended, but Yasmin’s Khan’s was just beginning. Her, the Doctor, and the whole universe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (really hope what happened to yaz made sense fgdjklkljgfkjl)
> 
> also oliver got what he deserved and i hope you all agree x
> 
> ALSO also, hope u all enjoyed the cheesy tropes of this final chapter bc no i'm not sorry

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!! <3
> 
> let me know what you think so far!


End file.
